


First Fight

by in_a_blog_in_the_ground



Series: A First For Everything [2]
Category: The Hobbit (Jackson Movies), The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Nothing big, bit of mild violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-11
Updated: 2013-11-13
Packaged: 2018-01-01 05:38:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1040983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/in_a_blog_in_the_ground/pseuds/in_a_blog_in_the_ground
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first time Nori and Dori escalate from arguments to a physical fight.</p><p>After a couple of the town enforcers drop a young Nori off...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Dusting off the ol' files o.O Wah it's been a while. This has actually been sitting on my computer for a while and I...never got around to posting it? 
> 
> Anyway, a continuation of Nori's firsts, though this one is told from Dori's POV.
> 
> Age note: Nori's about our equivalent of...13-14 ish?

“Stealing? You’ve been stealing?!” Nori had never seen Dori so furious.

 “It weren’t like ‘e needed it…posh nob like that…” Nori muttered, not looking Dori in the face.

Dori paced the floor as he tried to find the words to fill his anger. “That’s not the point! Haven’t I tried to teach you about honor? About honesty? Has it all been for naught? Nori, I’ve told you about the dwarves I’ve seen, who have sunken into depravity. You may think this is of little consequence, but it always starts like this!”

“Lay off, Dor’! It weren’t ‘ardly nuffin’! Like wot you do is of any ‘honor’ any’ow,” Nori froze. His impatience had made his tongue loose, and sometimes he said things he did not mean to out of temper.

Dori reddened. “What I do is what is keeping food in your belly, Nori! A roof over your head. Being a pugilist may not be the most highly-regarded profession, but I always conduct myself with honor. To not do so would make everything pointless! I will not feed, clothe, and house you and Ori on dirty money.”

“An’ my money is dirty, is it? I only take from those wot can afford it! That fat merchant ain’t goin’ ta miss a bob or two, _‘e’s_ the greedy one fer settin’ the takers on me! I’m tryin’ t’help too, Dori, you’re the one won’t let me fight.”

“You wouldn’t win,” Dori said bluntly, “You’re not big enough, and you haven’t seen what some of those fighters do in order to win.”

“I ken learn-,” Nori began, but was cut off by Dori.

“No! I will not have you become a killer!”

“Like you, Dori? Noble big bruvvah? At least wot I do, there’s no blood involved! No broken bones, no death. I’m not the brute, noble big bruvvah, you are!”

Something in Dori snapped. All those years of toil, all of the blood he had spilt so his brothers would not have to suffer; is this what Nori thought of him? Is that all he was? “You, you ungrateful whelp!”

Dori made to grab Nori, but the younger dwarf ducked low and jabbed hard at Dori’s knee. With a pop, the kneecap clicked out, and Dori went down. As he did, his arm swung out and caught Nori a blow that sent him reeling across the room and slamming into the front door. Stunned, he slid down it to land in a heap on the floor.

A white panic set in. “No! No, Nori, I’m sorry! Are you all right? Say something! I didn’t mean to! Nori!” Dori started towards his brother, dragging his leg, which wouldn’t lock properly.

Shaking his head to clear it, Nori was up and out the door before Dori could reach him, and what Dori saw in his eyes as he threw a final glance back at his brother was almost enough to bring him back to his knees. He expected rage, resentment, but there had been none of that. What was there was…betrayal? And no, not fear. Please don’t let that have been fear…

“Nori! Please come back! I’m sorry! I’m sorry…”

Dori reached the door and staggered through the yard. The injury was in truth, minor, but it would keep him limping for a fortnight or so. He certainly couldn’t run after his brother, whose silhouette he could only see in the moonless night because of his dwarven eyesight, though he tried. As he stumbled, a small form sped past him. It was Ori, wrapped in a cloak three times his size. “Noriiii!” the wee dwarf called, “Brudder!”

Catching onto the cloak, Dori pulled Ori back and swept him into his arms. “No, lad, wait, I’m sorry, I’m sorry. What have I done? Oh, what have I done?”

“Where’s he going, Do’?” Ori asked, dabbing at Dori’s face with the cloak. Dori hadn’t realized he’d been crying. “Don’t worry, Do’, he’ll be back soon. No’ always comes back soon.”

“Oh, darling, I…” Breathing, Dori pulled himself back together for his brother. “Yes. Yes, of course you’re right, little one, you’re always right. No’ will be back soon. We can go out tomorrow to make sure he finds his way. Now, you shouldn’t have run out here like that, I’d already put you to bed, and you don’t even have your boots on.”

“Heard shoutin’ anna bang. I c’n p’otect you and No’ee, Do’…” Reassured, and safe in Dori’s arms, Ori was slowly drifting back to sleep.

Rubbing his baby brother’s back, Dori limped back to the house. Though outwardly calm, inside his head he was screaming.

_What have I done I’ve pushed him away I’ve pushed him too far he’s gone for good I have to find him I have to bring him home._


	2. Chapter 2

_Days pass. There is no word, though Dori has been leaving messages with everyone he trusts to tell. From the High to Low towns he has eyes and ears looking for a lost and angry boy._

_Night after night, Dori wanders the Shades after leaving the rings, until…_

Wait. There. That was Nori’s voice.

Setting off at a trot, Dori rounds to corner to find a scene typical of the Shades…but that was his little brother in the thick of it.

Holding the neck of a broken bottle, snarling and spitting at the ring of Men around him, was unmistakably Nori. His auburn hair was messy and uneven. Mahal, had they cut off his braids? His clothes were torn and bloody. There was a throwing knife sticking out of his back; it had lodged over his shoulder blade, sparing his vitals, but making his arm slow.

“Hold still, little rat, it’s jiggin’ me aim,” one of the Men sneered, holding a knife matching the one in Nori’s shoulder to his eye by the point. Nori bared his teeth in answer.

“Stop.”

The circle of Men turned as the word suddenly boomed out in the wet alleyway.

“It’s jus’ anovvah rockskull,” another Man spat. “Stick ‘im, Jer.”

The Man with the knife let fly. Dori swept his arm up, pulling the cloak off and across. The sting of the knife was lost as it tangled in the cloth on the ground.

Nori’s surprised eyebrows disappeared into his bloodied fringe as he realized who the other dwarf was.

Rubbing his hands and cracking his neck, Dori strode forward. “You’d be advised to let my brother go. Now.”

“Oy…” Jer with the knives was squinting his eyes. “Innit that…Lookit dem braids, lads. Innit that the Bull?” The other Men’s eyes were widening as they recognized Dori from the Pits. More than a few of them had lost money on his fights. More than a few had won too. They knew who he was, and what he could do.

“Oi don’ care if ‘e’s the bloody Exiled King,” the second Man said. “If this ‘un’s ‘is brovvah, then ‘e’s been stealin’ from us too! Get’im!”

“You’ve seen wot ‘e does in dem ring fights! ‘E’s men’tal!”

“Yeah, it ain’t worff it!”

“You idiots!” The leader was slavering now. “Dose fights is all rigged! Ye’d know that if ye ‘ad ‘alf a brain in yer ‘eads! Now, GET’IM!”

With a roar, the Men surged forward.

Aye, he’d fought all manner of creature in the Pits. Dori knew how to fight Men. They were too tall, thought themselves too lofty. They danced on their toes, dodging his blows, thinking to wear him out, when in reality, they were just tiring themselves as he waited for them to come in. Even some of the dwarves fought this way. Most were young enough that they had never seen their ancestral halls; they had forgotten where their strength came from.

But Dori was a Son of Erebor. He was as patient as the earth.

As they came at him, striking from above, the looks on their faces as he easily stopped their blows was almost enough to make Dori laugh. They were like birds dashing themselves upon stones. How could they expect to win?

Downwards they struck, and upwards he surged, pushing each punch all the way from his heels planted in the dirt. When their knives came out, he was ready for that too, sliding and dodging the slashes with remarkable speed. To the Men, it felt like they were fighting a landslide or a quake, not an actual living being. It was as though the earth was shaking beneath their boots and punishing them for abusing one of her sons.

Yelping, the pack of Men fled down the street.

Panting, Dori rushed to his brother’s side.

“Oh Mahal, you’re hurt, Nori. You’re bleeding! That knife… Oh, good, it’s not very deep… Look what they’ve done to your hair…”

Still in shock, Nori let Dori fuss over him for a moment before blinking and stepping back. He remembered how he’d left his family, and feelings of guilt wouldn’t let him collapse into his brother’s arms like he wanted to.

“Nori, what is it? C’mon now, let’s go home…”

Wordlessly, Nori fumbled at his jacket, and finally getting it free, pulled out a bag of coins. Still not speaking, he thrust it into Dori’s hands.

“What is this? Nori…you…Is this what you took from them?”

Nori finally found his breath. “I was bringin’ it back fer you an’ Ori…t-t’say…t’say ‘m sorry…”

Nori stopped short as he watched the bag slip through Dori’s fingers to land in a puddle. A mix of emotions darted through him. Fury. Was Dori rejecting his apology? Shame. Did he not get enough? Grief. Did he not have a home?

These thoughts were smothered as Dori’s arms wrapped around him. “You…oh, Nori, you…stupid, stupid boy! We just want you! We just want you home!”

Unbidden, Nori’s arms came up as well to return the embrace. He blinked his eyes against the moisture unexpectedly fogging his vision. “Alrigh’…”

Coughing, he pulled himself together. “Alrigh’, I said! Let go, ya lug. People will talk. An’ don’t toss me money around, I worked ‘ard fer this!” Bending, he scooped the pouch out of the puddle and disappeared it back into his jacket, wincing as the movement jarred his shoulder. “Can ye get this sticker outta me back, Dor’?”

“Best to leave it in ‘til we can get you home, I think; wouldn’t want to tear the wound more,” Dori answered, going along with Nori’s flippant attitude. This was his normal defense against situations that made him uncomfortable, and Dori recognized it as a good sign that his family was knitting back together.

“Wotever ye say,” Nori grumbled, limping down the street. He did not protest as he felt his brother’s arm slip under his, holding him up. Together, the brothers made their way home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, that's the end of this particular story. Very short, I know, but there shall be an epilogue after this! It is silly and it exists simply because I really really wanted to have it exist XD


	3. Epilogue - The Mohawk

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just...I don't even know XD

Huffing out a sigh, Dori leaned against the door. It was good to be home. The night had been rough; some newcomers had come to town and wanted to try their luck in the ring. Dori had won both his fights against them, but he was glad they wouldn’t be staying long. His jaw still ached from the last lucky blow that had gotten through his defenses.

Making his way through the kitchen to the back rooms, he paused by Ori and Nori’s closed door. He thought he heard a snuffle, and his heart fell.

Poor little Ori had been inconsolable the night Dori had brought their middle brother home. After stitching and cleaning Nori’s wounds, the elder two had found Ori in the common room, sniffing back tears as he tried to mend Nori’s torn and bloodied clothes. His small fingers could barely push the fishbone needle through the wool, and he had pricked himself several times already. Tying Dori’s borrowed trousers tighter across his narrower hips, and careful not to get the blood seeping through his bandages onto Ori’s bedclothes, Nori had scooped up his baby brother and carried him to their room, murmuring reassurances and snippets of old songs to calm him. As he gathered up the ruined clothes, despite everything that had happened, Dori couldn’t help but smile. No matter what else, he knew Nori was devoted to his family. Still, he knew things would not be the same from then on.

Putting his ear to the wood, he listened again for the sound, prepared to go in and comfort whichever little brother needed it. Listening more closely, however, he heard not a snuffle, but…was that giggling? And a faint yelp, quickly muffled? Pushing open the door, Dori walked in to find both his brothers very much awake; one of them looking quite different.

“By Mahal’s fiery beard, what is going on in here?”

“Hullo, bruvvah!” Nori greeted cheekily, sitting on the edge of his bed as Ori shyly waved a small knife from where he was kneeling, half hiding, behind him. “Wot d’ya fink o’me new locks?”

Dori stared agog at Nori’s hair. It seemed that Ori had been in the process of shaving the sides of their middle brother’s head, leaving a row untouched down the middle, when Nori’s ear had been nicked, judging by the blood beading along its edge.

“After those bastards, sorry kid,” Nori interrupted himself as Ori giggled at the grown-up word, “cut off me braids, I was pret’y peeved. Me ‘air’s one’a me many best features.” Nori grinned as Ori again giggled.

“An’ then I remembers: lil’ Ori was tellin’ me ‘bout the Battle’a Moria, weren’t  ya, bruvvah? ‘e’d read a story on it, all by yersel’, didn’t ya, bruvvah?” Nori ruffled Ori’s hair as the child blushed. “Smart lad.

“Any’ow, there were pictures on the story paper, and Ori’s tellin’ me ‘ow one of the heroes, wot’s-‘is-name? Wot was ‘e called, Ori?”

“Dwalin,” Ori says shyly.

“Aye, ‘im. ‘Ow ‘e ‘ad ‘air like an axeblade, didn’t ‘e? An’ Ori drew ‘im fer me -show Big Bro’, lad- an’ I said, yeah, alrigh’, so I had Ori fix me mane.” Nori’s grin grows as Ori leans over his shoulder to hand Dori the sketch.

Though still very young, Ori was already showing signs of being a great artist. Stong lines depicted a great bear of a dwarf, roaring as he mowed down the orcs defiling Khazad-dûm’s ancient, sacred halls. In his hands were twin axes. Written upon them in Ori’s careful script, Dori could just make out the words “Grasper” and “Keeper”. He had a thick and full beard and a great mane of hair, though he was shorn about his crown, save for a crest running down the middle of his skull, indeed like an axeblade, as Nori had said.

Looking back at his brothers, both beaming back at him with their separate versions of expectant grins, Dori could only smile, and shake his head.

“Well, at least your hair has always grown back quickly.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Honestly though, how sick would it be to see Nori with a mohawk? Think about it :P


End file.
